Moments in Time
by amiebeca
Summary: AU; sequel to Chance Meeting (a short one-shot). Tony and Ziva met as children and this is their story through a series of one-shots that follow them through good times and bad times alike.
1. First Grade

**A/N: Here is the sequel of Chance Meeting (a short story on how the two met in this AU). This can be read on its own but their meeting is amusing (subtly promoting my story). C'mon, of course it is! The first time they met on the show Ziva asked if Tony was 'having phone sex'. How could it not be amusing. These will be a series of chronological one-shots all following the same storyline. I hope you enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: Fortunately my Easter present this year was a Wispa Egg! Unfortunately it was not NCIS :(**

* * *

The next time Tony DiNozzo saw Ziva David he was sat in his Grade 1 classroom completing the maths workbook they'd been given. The younger girl crept into the room and stood silently in front of the teacher. Being near the teacher's desk gave him the opportunity to eavesdrop.

"Hey, sweetie, are you okay?"

"I am fine," Ziva replied in her accented voice. "Miss Bingham told me to wait for her in this room. I am from Kipper-Garden."

"Kindergarten?" Mrs Lowe

Ziva frowned. "That too."

"Okay, hun-,"

"My name is Ziva, not sweetie or hun."

The teacher let go of an exasperated sigh. "Okay, Ziva, why don't you go and sit down next to Tony."

Ziva sat down not too gently onto the chair next to the familiar looking boy. Tony gaped silently at her for a moment before regaining his cool. "Zee-vah Da-veed," he grinned happily. "Why are you here? You're only 4!"

Ziva grinned back at the boy placing his face at one of her Papa's business events. "I will only be 4 for a short while. I am 5 in November. And Papa says 5 is too old for Kipper-Garten. You have got question 4 wrong. Three plus four is seven not eight."

Tony sighed. "It's eight, Ziva, I should know."

"It is seven, Tony, I am correct."

"How do you know? You're **four**!"

"Because if you have four," Ziva held up four fingers. "And add one, two, three," she added three fingers. "You get seven. Count them if you do not believe me."

Making a show of counting them Tony was planning how loudly to prove her wrong when he reached seven in his mind. Face scrunching up in confusion and embarrassment he quickly recounted. Then he turned back to his work scrubbing the wrong answer out with an eroded rubber and hurriedly scrawling a messy seven in the too small box.

"That was pay-neck for proving me wrong with the wimp word," Ziva giggled.

"Payback," Tony stated gleefully, happy she wasn't good at something.

The teacher quietly called for the two children to return to the work. Mrs Lowe passed Ziva a workbook so she had something to look at, doubting the small child would be able to do any of the work. A couple of minutes passed in 'silence' – no first grade classroom had ever been fully silent before – when Miss Bingham from Kindergarten popped in, had a brief discussion with Mrs Lowe in hushed tones and then left to return to the children she'd left napping next door. Mrs Lowe subtly watched the new addition to her class carefully. The child was small for her age of 4, her feet dangling way off the floor unlike the boy next to her. He was taller and leant imposingly into her personal space. Ziva did not mind, pushing him away when he got too annoying. _At least bullying won't be a problem,_ Mrs Lowe thought gladly.

Tony watched his new friend out of the corner of his eye. He leant over to glance at her answer she was quickly scratching in the boxes with neat little numbers. She met his eye and smiled. Tony smirked back. He was glad she was here. Harry had gone to another school meaning her barely knew anyone here. But with Ziva he'd be fine. Even if she was a **girl**!

Ziva too gazed at Tony, also glad she wasn't alone. Especially since everybody here seemed to tower over her. Papa may have said she should not be afraid but school was scary! Only a little scary. However, Tony was nice, friendly and familiar. She was happy to have him by her side, even if he did correct her English all the time. She would bet he couldn't say one word of Hebrew though.

The bell rang causing Ziva to jump. "It's just the bell. That tells us when break time and lunch time will be," he explained. "I wish it was lunch because I want you to see my Magnum PI lunch box. My mummy bought it for me last weekend and daddy thought it was really cool."

"Quieten down, class," Mrs Lowe ordered softly. "It's break time now so you can go out on the playground for a run about. Be sensible everyone."

Tony latched onto Ziva's hand pulling her out of the room almost before Mrs Lowe finished speaking. "I saw the playground on my way in and it looks awesome! Mummy told me about the bells and the playground. She said I had to think of school as an adventure."

"Adventure?"

"A story filled with action and exciting things... Like movies!"

The two children stopped at the edge of the playground to look around. It was a big expanse of outdoors filled with shrieking and playing kids. Most were older and taller than Tony while ALL were older and taller than Ziva. Tony looked down at the faded white line of the football (soccer) pitch. "One small step for kids..."

"...One pie-ant leap for first grade-kind."

Tony looked at Ziva for a moment eyebrows comically pulled together as he contemplated her statement. Then he shrugged. "Close enough," he grinned.

* * *

**TBC**


	2. Meeting the David's

**A/N: Here's the second chapter.**

**Tony= 7  
Ziva = 6**

* * *

"_What do you think you are doing?"_ a torrent of rapid Hebrew fell deaf on the 7 year olds ears.

"I'm sorry!" Tony gulped. "I don't speak Israeli!"

The Ziva look-a-like sighed. "Israeli is a nationality, Hebrew is the language," her heavily accented voice was stronger than Ziva's. "What are you doing?"

"I'm looking for Ziva but no one answered the door and I thought there might be a back door and when I found it, it opened so I stepped inside and then you founded me and I'm sorry, I didn't mean to break in, I didn't actually break in because the door wasn't locked and I didn't break anything but I'm still sor-,"

"Enough," Ziva mother snapped irately. "Ziva is in the living room with her Papa. Follow me."

Tony followed his friend's mum silently comparing how different the meeting between his own mum and Ziva had been. Rose DiNozzo had hugged the Israeli upon sight having heard so many stories about her from Tony. That was ages ago and every time Tony suggested Ziva's house for a play date she'd go quiet and unhappy. Tony wondered if the cold woman was the reason he had yet to be invited.

"Zivaleh, Eli, we have a guest," Rivka David called to her family. "Where is my sweet cherub?"

"Tali was feeling ill, Ima, so I took her to bed."

Rivka stared down at her daughter with contempt. "You should have let me Ziva."

"Sorry Ima, who is here?"

"A boy."

Tony peered round the woman to grin confidently at Ziva. The newly turned 6 year old gasped excitedly. "Tony!" she squealed, rushing over to hug him. Tony let her although it did 'cramp his style' he loved the hugs Ziva gave.

"Abba! This is Tony! My best friend," Ziva excitedly introduced him forgetting about her mother's presence in the room.

"Nice to meet you young man," Eli David formally greeted Tony. "I have heard many stories of your and Ziva's adventures."

Tony grinned. "Nice to meet you too," he replied before turning Ziva. "My mummy says Happy Birthday even though she is almost a week late! And she said I should give you this."

Tony shyly held out a thin envelope to Ziva who gently took it off him. Eli smiled at the exchanged whereas Rivka frowned not liking the scrawny 7 year old. In her opinion he looked like a naughty little boy, with scruffy hair and mischievous green eyes. He was also the boy that made Ziva dirty her dress!

"Toda," Ziva mumbled. The card had a green fairy on the front throwing pixie dust in the air that spelt out Happy Birthday. "I know her! She is Pinky-Bell from Peter Pan!"

"You've seen it! I thought it was a really good movie. Me and daddy watched it because mummy likes old films better than the cartoons," Tony laughed. "And her name's Tinkerbell," he added seriously.

Ziva pulled a face at which Rivka was disgusted. "I have not watched Peter Pan. I have read the book. Ima said we do not need a television because it will hurt my eyes."

"So could the teeny tiny letters in books," Tony suggested, knowingly tapping his head. "Read inside."

The young Israeli opened the card. The first page was filled with a scribbled picture of Tony and Ziva stood hand in hand and the other page had written: To Ziva and Tali, Hapy Birfdays, Luv Tony xxx.

"I remember that you said it was Tali's birthday soon so I wrote her name too," Tony explained with a smile. "How old is she now?"

Ziva handed the card to her Papa. "Tali will be 3 in four days. And she is allowed to have a party with a cake. Ima said I got that too but I cannot remember," Ziva informed Tony sadly. "But Ima is always right."

Rivka smiled; pleased her daughter remembered that important lesson.

"Ima?" a small girl's voice whined unhappily from the door. "Me no feel _tov_."

"Oh my little tatelah," Rivka cooed, rushing to her youngest. She scooped Tali into her arms hugging the ill child to her chest and brushing the hair from her sweaty forehead. "_Does your tummy hurt, motek_?"

"_Ken_," the toddler moaned.

Rivka swept out of the room after dropping Tali into Eli's lap to get some medicine. Tony curiously studied the young girl. She was chubbier than Ziva as still had her baby fat which made her face look rounder. Her chubby hands gripped a blanket tightly. Similar to all of the David family; Tali shared the same dark eyes and brown hair though unlike Ziva and Eli, Tali's hair fell straight instead of curls.

"Do you want to see my bedroom?" Ziva suddenly asked, tearing her worried eyes from her sister. Being older than Tali she felt it was her duty to look after the baby. And she felt terrible because Rivka had told her that Ziva being at school had given Tali the germs. So now she was forbidden to hug her sister and Tali resented her for that.

Tony shrugged. "Sure." Secretly he wanted to leave any room that Rivka David was going to be in. He found the woman strange. Mum's were meant to be warm and friendly and love all their children equally.

As the two friends walked up the stairs of Ziva's house, Ziva looked about not wanting her Ima to not allow Tony in her room. "I have to share my room with Tali because Ari has to have his own room. I wanted my own room but Ari is a boy and he is eleven now."

"Where is he?"

"He is with his Ima in Gaza."

"Why is your mum not his mum?"

"Abba was with another woman before he met my Ima and that woman is Ari's Ima. That is why we have different last names. Mine is David but Ari's is Haswari. This is my room."

Tony looked around the small room noticing a two bed, one pushed in the corner, the other placed almost in the middle of the room. Toys were scattered all over the floor as well as paper and crayons. Ziva sighed rather heavily for a six year old as she began to pick everything up.

"Ima does not like the room to be messy but Tali never tidies up and Ima never shouts at Tali," Ziva explained. "She says it is my job to tidy because I am older and more 'ponsible. But I always keep my things tidy!"

Tony wandered over to Ziva's corner of the room. Just like she had said everything was neat and had its own place. Her duvet was made, her books stacked on the chest of drawers and a mass of papers with complication squiggles on were smartly paperclip-ed or stapled together.

"What are those?" Tony enquired.

Ziva looked over. "Piano music."

"My mummy plays the piano. She tried to teach me but it was hard so now she plays and I listen," Tony boasted. "I think I should try again though because daddy always says that I need to never quit if I want to do anything and I want to play the piano because it sounds really nice."

"It is gentle and calming," Ziva agreed. "And it pleases Ima when I play well." She left out the part where she got rapped on the fingers for mistaking a key or note.

"Why is your Ima mean?"

Ziva shrugged. "I do not think she is mean. I love her even if she is not as happy as your Ima. My _Saba_ and _Savta_ lived through the _Shoah_ so my Ima's family have never known peace."

Although Tony did not understand most of the sentence, he decided from the pain in Ziva's eyes he never wanted to know what the _Shoah_ was. Instead he changed the topic with a joke his daddy had said that morning which brought a smile back to Ziva's olive face.

* * *

**TBC**


	3. I'm Dying

**A/N: This chapter is a bit sad. I haven't read much fics about Tony's mum's death so this is just my imagination. Sorry if it's really bad.**

**Tony= 8  
Ziva = 6**

* * *

When Tony turned eight his mummy suddenly became mum. It was not cool to call her mummy anymore. He was EIGHT! It was also not cool to be friends with a six year old. Six was such a young, silly age. When he told Ziva, he expected her to cry and beg him to still be friends with her. Instead she agreed saying that eight year olds were way out of her mile... Whatever that meant!

However she still turned up to his party and he was grateful for that as all his other friends were Boring with a capital B. They didn't know anything! They couldn't burst out in Hebrew curse words. They couldn't climb as high as Ziva in the trees. And they definitely could not compare to Ziva's knowledge. Tony was certain Ziva was smarter than ALL his eight year old friends put together. She still wasn't as smart as him... when it came to movies.

So as it was clear that Ziva was still cool now he was eight, the two best friends hung out with each other in every spare second they had. At school they were never apart from the moment they met at the gates to the moment they parted at Tony's car. Ziva had to walk home. Sometimes she'd be invited back to his large home though most times she would dutifully follow the mysterious 12 year old Ari home.

One day everything changed. The day Rose told her son she was dying.

"Tony," Rose began stroking his scruffy hair out of his eyes.

"Mmm?" he mumbled keeping his eyes trained to the TV where a black and white film played.

Rose wrapped her son in a hug trying hard not to let her tears fall. She didn't want to leave him but the doctors had told her, her chance of survival at this point wasn't high. "I have to tell you something really important, baby."

Tony wriggled free of his mum's arms, facing her with a concerned frown. He could tell something was not right in the way her voice trembled and the way her eyes shone with unshed tears. "What's the matter?" he questioned urgently.

"You remember that I went to the doctors, right?" she began, continuing on Tony's small timid nod. "Well, they told me t-that I am d-dying."

Tears filled Tony's eyes. The D-word echoed in his ears and an overwhelming grief filled his breaking heart. "Dying?" he managed to croak.

Rose nodded allowing a few tears to roll down her cheeks. She lightly brushed away the tears on the boy's cheeks with a gentle touch. "I have cancer and I know you don't understand that but it's what k-killing me," she tried to explain. "And I know that this is gonna be so hard for you, baby, but you must remember that I love you SO much and if I could do anything, it would be to stay here with you."

Tony fell into his mother's embrace sobs ripping their way from his chest. "I d-don't want you t-to d-die mummy!" he bawled into her shoulder. "I d-don't want you to l-leave me!"

"I don't want to either," Rose sniffed, hugging her son as tight as possible without hurting him. "I love you baby."

"I love you too mummy," Tony croaked.

The two stayed cuddled on the couch for the rest of the evening only moving to lie together in Rose's bed. She held her baby boy close all through the night thankful that she'd at least gotten to know eight years of his life, saddened that she'd never know him later in life, that she'd never meet his wife or play with her grandchildren or watch him grown into a man. She cursed G-d for the disease but knew she could not blame Him. She never wanted her son to ever lose faith but knew he wouldn't recover from this blow. He would not believe in G-d. He'd grow up without the faith she so wanted him to believe in.

The next day Tony got up intent on making his mum's final summer, the best summer in the history of school holidays! First he needed someone to help him and support him. Even if she was only six, Tony knew Ziva was perfect for this job. She acted older than him every day and knew about painful things like this. How? He didn't really want to find out.

Scribbling a note to him mum, the eight year old rushed to his friend's home. At Ziva's he had to knock five times before the door opened. An angry Rivka looked down at him but that was nothing new. The woman was always angry at something or someone; mostly Ziva, Eli or him.

"Can I see Ziva?" he asked politely remembering that his mum loved manners even to those undeserving of them.

"TOEY!" Tali yelled happily toddling towards him.

Tony smiled as best as he could, considering the situation his mum was in. "Tali, where's your sister?" he asked ruffling the three year olds hair.

Tali giggled. "She with Abba. They twaining. I get her! ZIA!"

Rivka scowled at Tony but smiled down at her young angel. She could see no fault in Tali but the people around her baby changed the way she wished for her to be. Ziva rushed down the stairs. "Walk," her Ima snapped, picking up Tali to go back to the kitchen.

Ziva glanced to the door. "Tony," she smiled her face lighting up. It fell straight away as she took in the facial expression of her best friend. "Are you okay?"

"No," he answered truthfully. "My mum's dying."

* * *

**TBC**


	4. Sound of Druken Fathers

**A/N: Another rather sad chapter following on from the last one, just a couple of months later.**

**Tony= 8  
Ziva= 7**

* * *

Rose DiNozzo passed away that August. Her condition quickly sapped her strength even with the treatment she was receiving. As her body deteriorated and rebelled against her so did her mind. Senior took her to the hospital for good when she drank her sons Sea-Monkeys. Tony visited every day although it hurt his heart each time he saw his once strong beautiful mummy weak and skeletal. The one thing Rose remembered was to say the three most important words to her baby. Every time she saw Tony the last thing he heard was always 'I love you.'

When he allowed Ziva visit with him, he saw that the trip affected the Israeli more than she'd ever admit and so refused to let Senior take her with them again. Sometimes he needed to remind himself Ziva was only six no matter how old she acted. Sometimes he need to remember he was only eight but rebuffed that thought whenever it appeared in his mind.

His plan for the best summer ever failed miserably. Every summer he could think of beat that awful month. It was hard to be fun and happy in a hospital and even harder to smile when his mum was in pain. He was thankful she passed the way she did though. Tony brought his mum's favourite black and white film to her room and they lay and watched it together. She thanked him for the best time she'd had since her arrival in the ward, said she loved him and died 10 minutes before the ending. She'd died happy and for that he too was happy(ish).

2 months passed slowly for Tony and Ziva as they struggled to cope with the loss of a woman both looked up to. For Ziva, Rose had acted more like a mother to her in the couple of years she'd known her than Rivka had since her birth.

Every night after school Ziva followed Tony home and then trekked her own way back to her home.

"Lehitraot, Tony," Ziva mumbled.

Tony grabbed her arm. "Do you want to watch a movie? My dad's not in."

Ziva nodded eagerly following Tony into the grand house. The big home had not been the same since Rose had gone. It was too quiet, too cold, too empty. Tony knew Ziva could not make it better but he was fed up of being alone. Senior was never home anymore and he just wanted some company.

"What do you want to watch?"

"Abba let Tali and I watch the Sound of Music last week but Ima came home before the end. She turned it off and sent us to bed without dinner."  
"My grandma bought the Sound of Music for mu-," Tony chocked on the word with a noise not unlike a sob. "For us last Christmas. I'll go find it."

Ziva nodded, settling uncomfortably on the couch. "Am I 'cool' now?" she asked hesitantly. Tony looked up at her in confusion. "I turned seven two days ago and you said six year olds were uncool and silly."

"Why didn't you have a party?"

"Ima would not let me."

"Can I ask you a question?" Tony asked as he put the DVD into the player.

"Uh-huh."

"Does your Ima love Tali more?"

Ziva stayed silent, staring dully at the TV that played the opening scene of her favourite movie. "Tali is better than me. I am a bad daughter."  
"Will your Ima be angry if you're late?"

"Ima es siempre enojado," Ziva mumbled before switching back to English. "Maybe."

"Has she ever hit you?"

Ziva twisted toward Tony anger flaring in her eyes. "That is more than one question, Tony!"

"Sorry."

The pair watched the movie without speaking for a while until Ziva's quiet voice broke it, "It is okay. Ima has only hit me twice but they were accidents."

"Do you love her?"

"With my whole lung."

"Heart."

"Oh."

The two children continued to watch Julie Andrews sing and dance around with the children she was looking after. "I don't like this film," Tony suddenly stated. "It's too... singy and... none of the Nannies dad interviewed were that nice."

"Singy is not a word. And I like it."

"You would."

"Has your dad found a Nanny?" Ziva asked.

"Yup," Tony muttered glumly. "She's been here every day since September and I hate her. Dad's meant to be home this weekend so she's taken Friday to Sunday off but I have a feeling dad won't be here."

"Why not?"

Tony shrugged. "He's never in anymore. I don't think he likes the reminders in the house of... you know... and so he just stays away. He did come home last week stinking of al...co... beer."

"I do not like alcohol," Ziva stated. "It makes Abba angry."

"It just makes dad sad."

"Are you okay, Tony?"

Tony sent Ziva a wry grin, covering up his grief with humour. "How can I be? We're watching the Sound of Music."

By the time the film had finished the sun had set and it was dark outside. Feeling bad about letting the younger girl walk home alone in the gloom, Tony shrugged on his coat. The two wandered through the streets receiving concerned glances at the few passer-bys they encountered.

"Won't your family be worried?"

Ziva shook her head. "No," she whispered. "Ima will be angry, Abba will be disappointed and Tali will be sad because Ima will shout. Ari would be worried but he is back in Gaza again."

"Why did you stay then?" Tony asked.

"Because you are my friend and you are hurting. I wanted to help you, Tony."

To say Ziva's Ima was angry was an understatement. She was absolutely livid. Tony could almost see steam pouring from her ears like the mad cartoons on Saturday morning TV. She grabbed her daughter roughly by the top of her arms and literally dragged her into the house yelling loudly in fast Hebrew. Tony watched the home with emotion-filled eyes, troubled for his best friend.

* * *

**TBC**

**Translations:  
**_Lehitraot_ = Goodbye (Hebrew)  
_Ima es siempre enojado_ = Ima is always angry (Spanish)


	5. Yom Hu'ledet Sameach

**A/N: I was asked last chapter by ****_Girl Wonder 2005_**** for something happy. I tried but I think I may have failed but I promise to try even harder for the next chapter. I am not very good at writing happy things.**

**I ****apologise for the mistake I made in Spanish last chapter. I am learning the language but always find myself slipping with the verbs estar and ser. Sorry Cam and any other native Spanish speakers.**

**I would also like to thank everyone of you who as read or reviewed my story. It means so much to me :)**

* * *

Ziva lay miserably on her bed in the corner of the shared room. Ima was angry just like she had known she'd be so now she had to lie on her stomach and try her hardest to ignore the throbbing in her bum. And legs from where the belt had slipped a lot. And arms from where Ima had severely held her in place. Abba would normally come in with a cold cloth to soothe her, but tonight he was disappointed.

"You should know better by now, my Zivaleh," he had said when she'd looked to him for comfort. "Ima always knows what is best for you."

So now she mutely cried herself to sleep taking comfort from Tali's small even breaths in the bed opposite hers. The constant inhalations were calming and allowed Ziva passage into numb albeit restless slumber. But, however much her bottom hurt or her legs stung or her arms bruised, Ziva would not have changed anything. She loved to be with Tony and wanted to help him more than anything in the world. More than she wanted a loving Ima who actually cared!

Tony always appreciated Ziva's company and love with all his heart and so he wanted her to know that he too loved her more than anyone else. Although he shouldn't say love because his mum loved his dad and they kissed. And he did not want to kiss a girl. Even if it was Ziva! So to convey and strengthen their friendship he decided to give to Ziva what she'd never had before...

He woke up earlier the next morning and only just remembered to grab some half-toasted toast and his neatly packed lunchbox (thanks to Nanny Velma) before rushing off to school. He'd never been so excited to go.

"Miss Coffee?"

"Yes Tony?" the teacher asked dubiously.

"It was Ziva's birthday three days ago," he began. "And she didn't have a party. Seven is a really big, important age so can we sing Happy Birthday and make her a card."

Miss Coffee looked admiringly down at her student. "Of course we can, why did Ziva not have a party?"

"Um... her Ima said no. I'm not sure why."

The young teacher nodded thoughtfully thinking of the youngest child in the class. Being a year or two younger than all the pupils did not bother the Israeli in the slightest. She was permanently polite; not once forgetting her manners on any occasion. Although quiet, Ziva managed to let off an air of confidence and strength most probably displayed from the way she sat with an unbelievably straight back. Miss Coffee had always felt for the young girl but any type of sympathy or kindness was taken with guarded brown eyes and a wary '_toda_', known to the whole class as Ziva's way of thanking someone.

"Are you making the card now?"

Tony nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, and then the whole class can sign it!"

Luckily for Tony he'd arrived so early in his mission to give Ziva her bestest birthday ever that he had time to make her a card before his classmates arrived. He gave it to the teacher who promised she'd secretly ensure everybody wrote their name down on his creation.

Tony then rushed up to the school gates where he dutifully waited for Ziva to arrive. She'd possibly be shocked to see him at their meeting point prior to her arrival as he was nearly always late. Tony caught sight of Ari first gently towing Ziva along the pavement, holding her hand gently in his own. The older boy looked exhausted and Ziva looked upset.

"Have a good day, _tateleh,_ do not worry yourself about my problems, promise?" Ari said, kneeling in front of his young sister and taking her face in his hands.

"But Ari-,"

"No buts, Zivaleh," he snapped, softening his tone as Ziva flinched. "I am fine. Enjoy your day."

"_Ani ohevet otcha, _Ari," Ziva murmured throwing her arms around his neck.

Ari hugged her back fiercely, striving not to cry. "_Ani ohev otach. _Now go, _tateleh_, Tony is waiting for you. I will be here to pick you up at half three."

Ziva nodded solemnly gazing after her retreating brother.

"_Boker Tov_, Tony," Ziva muttered gloomily.

"Morning, Zee-vah!" Tony smiled. "Why is Ari back? I thought you said he was in Gapa."

"He went to Gaza a day after my birthday and found out his Ima has died while he was with us. Nobody thought to tell him so he came home early this morning. Abba wanted to let him have a day off school but Ima wouldn't let him because he shouted at her for hurti-." Ziva stopped abruptly hands flying to subconsciously rub her injured arms. "I am worried about him," she finished lamely.

Tony took her hand tugging lightly in the direction of their classroom. "I know how he feels, Zi," he began lowly, trying to keep cheerful. "You need to wait until he wants to talk to you about it. Hurry up! I have got a surprise for you!"

Ziva picked up the pace perking up at the mention of a surprise. "What is it?"

Tony just grinned gleefully, tapping the side of his nose and racing off inside the school since everyone had already left the playground. "Pronto Ziva! We're gonna be late!"

Ziva scampered after him calling out, "What does 'proto' mean?"

But Tony was already too far away to bother answering back. He opened the door and Ziva followed. The whole class were stood on the carpet area where they were sometimes taught.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY ZIVA!" they chorused in unison, and then broke out into a shambled singing of Happy Birthday, Tony almost shouting in his joy at astonishing Ziva who always knew when he was lying or hiding something.

Miss Coffee subtly handed Tony his home made card during the song. He held it out proudly to his best friend. "_Yom Hu'ledet Sameach_," he beamed, crazily proud he'd said it correctly.

Ziva tenderly took the card holding it as if she thought it may break at any moment. "_Toda Raba_, Tony," she murmured softly, tears welling in her big, brown eyes. "_Toda_ for the best birthday ever."

* * *

**TBC**

**Translations:  
**_Tateleh_ = Little Darling  
_Ani ohevet otcha_ = I love you (m)  
_Ani ohev otach_ = I love you (f)  
_Boker Tov_ = Good Morning  
_Yom Hu'ledet Sameach_ = Happy Birthday


	6. Do you believe in Heaven?

**A/N: This chapter is definitely happier than the other though it gets sadder at the end and I think it is a little bit deep and emotional. Especially for such young characters but this is Tony and Ziva and there is absolutely nothing ordinary about them. I hope you are all enjoying this as I am really enjoying writing it.**

**Tony= 9  
Ziva= 7**

* * *

Tony and Ziva lay, sprawled across the front lawn of Tony's house. They had been ushered out of the house by Velma (the evil Nanny) when Ziva had initiated a food attack on the unsuspecting woman who'd snapped at her for eating with dirty hands. Ziva had expected a slap but surprisingly the Nanny didn't even touch her just demanded that she left the house.

The two best friends watched as a butterfly lazily fluttered past them. "Ari is afraid of fatflies," Ziva laughed. "He says that the insects that look pretty can be the most dangerous."

Tony rolled his eyes, though the 14 year olds logic was rather clever, butterflies were harmless. "Me and mum used to catch them to look at their wings. Then we'd let them go."

"I think they are ugly down close."

"Up close."

"But when Ari and I caught one we looked down at it and close to it, so it must be down close," Ziva argued.

"But the term is up close!"

"It makes no sense! I did not look up!"

"That still doesn't make it down close."

Ziva huffed in mock anger (and real embarrassment). "English is a terrible language."

"Hebrew is a bunch of symbols that no one can even pronounce," Tony defended. "If you didn't go back to Israel every summer and Christmas then you'd be doing better."

"Ima likes to celebrate Chanukah with our _Mishpacha_. We go to Adir _Dod_'s ranch in Haifa where he breeds Arabian horses. I like Israel; I always feel at home there."

"What else do you do?"

"Ima tells me to play the piano for our _Mishpacha_ and I get to say the Shabbat blessing. Abba takes Ari and me to the forests and we must find our way back on our own."

"Do you climb the trees?"

Ziva smirked and rolled on her stomach to face Tony. "Of course we do! Walking gets so boarding!"

"Boring, Zee-vah."

"That too."

"I'll race ya up that tree," Tony challenged, already rising to his feet.

"You are off!"

Tony rolled his eyes at another idiomatic mistake. Ziva's English was always at its worst near the end of August when she'd just got back from her holiday in her homeland. Hopefully she would get better as school started. "Okay, go!"

They both raced wildly towards the tree, Ziva nimbly swung up into the branches with stopping while Tony halted to plan his moves. But seeing Ziva beginning her ascent he chose to use brute force. He was bigger and taller than Ziva which he had at first thought was his advantage but observing the way she slipped up the tree he was going to struggle.

Ziva heard Tony scrambling behind her, heard twigs snapping as he brushed them out of his way, heard his curses when particular nasty ones clawed at his skin. She didn't look down, deciding to concentrate on incline ahead of her. She recognized how the training her Abba insisted on helped her win the challenge. Maybe she should start to look at the exhausting education of defence with more vigour no matter how much it sometimes hurt her or tired her.

Ziva sat neatly at upon the thickest branch near the end of the oak and looked to the cloudless blue sky as she waited for Tony. He appeared moments later, breathless and sweaty.

"Are you a ninja or something?" he asked incredulously, settling next to her.

"A ninja is Japanese, I am Israeli."

"Well, you can be my unique Israeli ninja," Tony resolved happily.

Ziva smiled at the nickname. "This is a pretty view," she stated, indicating the scene below them with a careless wave of her bare skinny arm.

"Um... uh-huh," Tony acquiesced, his only dispute being the word pretty- definitely not one a BOY of NINE should agree to. "It's okay, I suppose."

The pair gazed on the sun gradually sank behind the hills imprinted on the skyline. Ziva tilted her head, peering up again; eyes squinted as though she was trying to glare her way into sighting Heaven. She thought of how silly it seemed that after death people would live on in the World-to-Come next to _Adonai_.

"Do you believe in Heaven?" Tony suddenly asked as he too gazed upwards.

Ziva hesitated. "I do not know." Tony glanced at his companion. "I would like to think that there is a place where good people may rest and be with _Adonai_ but it seems so unreal."

"I believe in Heaven," Tony stated abruptly.

"You do?"

"Mm-hum."

"Why?"

"Where else is my mum?" he asked. "She wouldn't have left me if it wasn't for a good reason and I believe that G-d needs my mum to be an angel so she can help others who need her more than I do."

"You have thought of this often?"

Tony nodded. "I like to imagine my mum's life up there, living with all the others who have been called to G-d. It makes it hurt less."

Ziva noticed Tony's left hand clutching his shirt over his heart and a tear trail slowly down his cheek. She noiselessly reached over and took his hand in her own, silently telling him that she was here with him and would not be leaving any time soon. Tony clenched her hand a little too tightly but she said nothing, did nothing to relax his grip, just stayed by him. This act conveyed her love to Tony more than any words could. For that Tony was grateful for words could be meaningless and harsh (especially in Ziva's awkward English).

They stayed on that branch longer than they should have but neither wanted to break the peace in which they sat. Neither wanted this moment to end. But both knew life did not go like that. Life always continues with its quick pace, never waiting for those unfortunate enough to fall.

* * *

**TBC**

**Translations:  
**_Mishpacha_ = Family  
_Dod_ = Uncle  
_Adonai_ = My Lord / God


	7. Bruises

**A/N: I know. I've been gone a while but this awful thing called 'real life' (ugh) got in the way of my writing time. School stared again after a 2 week ****break and I got my mock exams back: 5 A*'s, 2 A's and 1 B.**

* * *

Tony watched his friend with a sad smile as she grins toothily back at him, the gaps where her teeth should be prominent. He was ten now, and had already lost the innocence and naivety most associate with children. He watches Ziva, his Israeli ninja, and understands that her life is different to all the others in the classroom they share. He notices her too skinny frame, the bruises that she tries to hide, the overwhelming sadness her eyes drown in and can't help but think about how he knows they come from her family, the ones meant to protect her and love her. He knows that he has known for a long time but he never wanted to even try to comprehend the truth.

Because the truth hurts.

But his friend was hurting even more. And he had to say something. Convince her to get some help. He snorted to himself. As if Ziva, his strong willed, stubborn ninja would ask for help. She'd probably walk away from him. Or alienate her feelings, so she could speak about the situation indifferently without any sentiment.

"Ziva?" Tony suddenly asked, finding some courage within him.

Ziva looked up from swinging on the swing in the park, her long brown curls falling away from her thin olive face, to display a livid, purpling bruise. "_Ken_?" she uttered wearily, distinguishing Tony's serious tone from his normal attitude.

"What happened to your cheek?" he mumbled.

Ziva's breath whistled in sharply as Tony touched upon the forbidden subject. "I fell," she snapped brusquely.

"I thought we were friends, Zi," Tony tried to guilt her.

The Israeli's lips pursed together making him think about how much she looked like her Ima when she pulled that face. "We are best friends, Tony," Ziva reminded him.

"So why are you lying to me?"

"I am not."

"You are too."

"I am not."

"You are."

"No, I am not."

The two friends we now stood facing each other almost chest to chest, Tony towering over Ziva. "Why does this always happen to us?" he sighed in defeat.

"Because we are not very good at arguing."

"That's a good thing, right?"

"_Ken_, of course it is."

"Good," Tony stated, then sighed heavily, flopping onto the ground. "Please Zee-vah. I don't like it when your hurt or when you hide things. You say you don't want to talk about it but your eyes... your eyes won't shut up."

Ziva glared down at Tony. "My eyes cannot speak, do not be stupid," she argued.

Tony chuckled gently seizing Ziva's hand and pulling her next to him. "It's an expression."

A moment of silence passed and then-

"It was Abba," Ziva abruptly whispered out of the blue. "I cried when Ima hit me. I forgot the Russian greeting she taught me. It was only a small slap but when I cried Abba hit me even more, even harder than Ima." One tear trickled slowly down Ziva's cheek as she rapidly spilled her heart out to her companion. She violently wiped it away. "He told me that only babies cry and I am not a baby anymore."

Tony gripped her hand tighter, conveying that he was there for her. "Why did you lie to Mr Flint?" he questioned indignantly.

"He did not mean it, Tony! And I love my Abba," Ziva defended her and her father's actions reverently. "And Ima said it is best not to tell anyone."

"But mum used to say parents who hit their kids are bad pe-."

"MY FAMILY IS NOT BAD!" Ziva shouted, scrambling to her feet and causing a few concerned adults to look their way. "They are just stricter than your Nanny. They only want me to do well in life and to be able to do that they must teach me discipline."

"Dislpin?" Tony questioned.

"And here I thought you were the _older_ English speaker," Ziva chuckled, calming down almost as quickly as she'd fired up. She sat back down, crossing her legs on the floor.

"Maybe if you didn't sound like you've swallowed a dictionary all the time," Tony grumbled good-naturedly.

Ziva frowned, confused. "I would choke if I were to try swallowing a dictionary. There are a lot of words so the book would be too big."

"It's another expression, Zee-vah," Tony informed the now irate Israeli. "Meaning you use too many big words in easy sentences."

"_Yutzi!_ I **hate** idioms!"

"Well I don't like Hebrew," Tony whined. "What did you say?"

Ziva shrugged. "If you agree to stop using idioms, then I will consider ceasing my use of Hebrew curse words."

"Well..." Tony pretended to deliberate the offer, already knowing his answer. "That, my dear ninja, will never happen. Your confused look is too good not to use idioms! You get a little dip above your nose which scrunches up. And I love hearing the curses. When you tell me the meaning I get to use them at home and the Nanny can't tell me off."

"I do not think you would be able to stop yourself even if you tried," Ziva stated. "Anything that passes through your mind comes out of your mouth first."

Tony smirked raising his eyebrows comically. "That's what makes me, me. And if I wasn't me, you wouldn't like me because I'm one of a kind."

"I am more unique because I am the only foreigner in our class."

"Nu-uh, I'm Italian," Tony argued.

"But you were not born in Italy, you have not lived in Italy and you do not even visit the country."

Tony shrugged. "My last name's DiNozzo, that's Italian which makes me Italian."

"I am not going to argue with you on this subject anymore. It is stupid. You are meant to be 10."

"And you're meant to be eight but you swear in Hebrew."

"I did not swear, I said stupid."  
Tony's smirked impossibly widened. "HA! Now I know 'yutty' means stupid."

Ziva rolled her eyes. "_Yutzi_," she muttered under her breath.

* * *

**TBC**

**Translations:**  
_Yutzi_ = Stupid


End file.
